


A Slip of Tongue and Skin

by Slashy Goodness (allmadhere)



Series: Kink Bingo [8]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: D/s, F/M, M/M, Multi, Piercings, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-27
Updated: 2010-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-13 04:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmadhere/pseuds/Slashy%20Goodness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For <a href="http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/">kink bingo</a>, piercing/needleplay square. Thanks to <a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/josiemus_prime/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/josiemus_prime/"><b>josiemus_prime</b></a> for the super quick beta while I had pasta.</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Slip of Tongue and Skin

**Author's Note:**

> For [kink bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/), piercing/needleplay square. Thanks to [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/josiemus_prime/profile)[**josiemus_prime**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/josiemus_prime/) for the super quick beta while I had pasta.

It could have simply been an offhanded comment, a little simple nostalgia that Pete was reading into too deeply. However, he'd come to learn in the past few months that precious few things were so simple and clear-cut with Patrick Stump. Especially not things like this.

"Hey," Patrick said casually as they enjoyed a quiet breakfast, "remember when your nipple was pierced?" Pete remembered. Vividly. He didn't even remember who had convinced him to do it, but he remembered every sensation tied to it.

 _The piercer tells him to relax and breath. He tries to do it. He really does. It can't be any worse than getting a tattoo, so what's the worry? There's a quick jab of a needle and Pete thinks it's over, that he can go. It really wasn't that bad. A hand stops him as he rises from the chair. That was just a local anesthetic, the piercer tells him, to dull the pain a little. He'd asked for that, hadn't he? Pete wonders just what he's gotten himself into this time. The second needle is more insistent and spreads pain like fire through his chest. He bites his lower lip to keep from screaming, clutches at the arm rests, squeezes his eyes shut. The sharp and immediate pain slowly begins to throb and dull, constant but not terrible. It's over. The piercer is reviewing care and maintenance but Pete's not really listening. His hand drifts up on its own to graze over the little ring but the piercer smacks his hand away. He could infect it if he touches it so soon. He'll need to be careful of it for a few days too. Pete thinks he can probably wait that long. Maybe._

Pete rubbed at his chest, fingers grazing over his left nipple and chasing after phantom sensations. "Yeah," he mumbled then cleared his throat. "Yeah, of course I remember. It was sort of stupid though. Why?"

"Nothing," Patrick said calmly, giving Pete this look. Pete knew that look. He fucking loved that look. That look was taking him by complete surprise in Patrick's bright little kitchen. "It was just, I don't know, kind of interesting?" Patrick's looking him in the eyes now and Pete twitches under the weight of the stare. "You could maybe try it again." Pete tugged at the thin hemp necklace he wore all the time now and swallowed hard.

He set the appointments before he could even begin to think about changing his mind. He tried to be subtle when he asked Hurley for suggestions on discrete parlors but he thinks he likely failed on that count. Hurley didn't ask and Pete didn't want to tell.

The hardest part was keeping it all from Ashlee, not just the piercings still healing on his chest but everything else. She caught him fidgeting while they posed for the bright, anonymous flashes at yet another opening gala event and frowned. They were going to talk about it later, Pete knew. He wondered how much he could get away with leaving out before she would be able to tell.

"I already know, Pete," she said in the car and he froze. She knew. She knew and she was going to make him choose and-- "Patrick told me ages ago. About how you and he have this whole..." She trailed off and gestured vaguely. "I don't mind, you know. Well, no, I wonder why you didn't ask me but I know I'm not him. It's okay though, really. He's been sort of teaching me when he can, telling me what it's like." Her smile was shy and she was blushing and gazing out the window. "I think he may be plotting something for, you know, later." Pete was shaking and he couldn't make it stop, even as he stared at his lap. He tried to regulate his breathing and counting backwards to 1 and every other method of relaxation he could think of but none of it worked. "Hey, no, babe." He looked up at her and she grabbed his chin to give him a chaste little kiss. Her elbow grazed against one of the piercings and he sighed and unwound. She pulled back with a smile and they rode in comfortable silence to an after party neither wanted to attend.

He became less careful and meticulous about hiding it after that, about hiding everything. Ashlee gave him private little smiles but he heard nothing from Patrick at all for weeks. He started to worry that he'd done something wrong, stepped over some boundary they'd set and he'd forgotten. He was waiting in the line at Starbucks, waiting to place his order, when his phone buzzed heavy in the breast pocket of his shirt. He hissed and pulled it out, the barista shooting him an unimpressed look. He placed his order, paid, and stepped aside to wait. It was an email from Patrick, the subject empty and the body reading only 'I want to see them'. Pete shivered despite the warmth and he swore he could feel the barely healed flesh around his piercings tingle and tighten. 'anytime', he replied as his drink was plunked onto the bar, 'just tell me when'. They never used names, not when talking like this and about this. Pete was halfway through his overly sweet drink before he got a reply with a Google Maps link, date, time, and instructions.

Pete was nervous as he walked up to the small club, all in black and fiddling with his necklace under his tight black shirt. It was tight enough that his piercings were easy to see and he felt every slip and slide of fabric over his nipples. The pants were tight and a rich black vegan leather, something Patrick had given him early on, blushing and mumbling about how Hurley couldn't pitch a fit. He didn't care about the shoes. He was leaving them at the door like he usually did. Ashlee made sure they were a nice pair anyway, from some award show red carpet or other.

He shoved everything aside as he stepped over the threshold, blinking in the moody gloom of dim red lights. He followed the instructions perfectly and without hesitation, donning his thick black leather collar over his normal necklace and a simple mask over his eyes. He looked around for the secluded dungeon corner Patrick wanted to meet him in, a tiny ornate couch surrounded by curtains and just private enough. Patrick was there already and Pete's breath caught in his throat at the sight of him in close-fitting black pants and waistcoat over a simple white shirt, sleeves rolled just over his elbows, and boots he'd probably been given by Joe once upon a time. He was gorgeous in more ways than he could count and Pete could kneel at his feet and worship him for eternity. The smile Patrick gave when he spotted him was methodical. He was already halfway into Dom-space and Pete felt himself slipping just because of that.

He hovered in front of Patrick, waiting for some sort of command. "Sit," Patrick said, voice low and sending shivers up Pete's spine as he perched beside him, twitchy and nervous and excited. "Now, show me." Pete's fingers flew over his buttons in his haste to comply and Patrick shook his head gently like he always did. Pete hurried out of his shirt, only slowing to a stop when his chest was bare for Patrick to see. He ran his fingers tips slowly over them, sparks of pleasure flying across Pete's skin. He flicked at the left and Pete hissed, toes curling against the faux marble floor.

"Please, sir," Pete murmured softly, trying not to press into the touch too much since he didn't know if it was allowed, "is this what you wanted?"

Patrick ran a hand through his hair, down his cheek to his neck and across his chest to pinch a nipple. Pete sucked in a hissing breath and bit back a moan. "Yes, Pete," he said in a low whisper Pete could only just hear, "it's exactly what I wanted. You're such a good boy. I should reward you for being so good." Patrick leaned in and kissed him slow and dirty, thumb moving over the piercings at random, and Pete squirmed and whined. "You’re so good," Patrick breathed into his mouth, "so good." Pete whimpered.

Patrick's lips followed the same path as his hand before and wrapped around each nipple in turn, flicking them and pulling at the rings with his tongue. Pete had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

"Would you like to go home so we can play?" Pete nodded, could already feel the pull of chains at the piercings on his chest. Patrick had something perfect planned for him, he knew. Pete sighed and slipped the shirt back on when Patrick told him to, biting the inside of his cheeks as the fabric pulled over his sensitive skin. Patrick stood and dusted himself off, shedding his dominance along with the invisible dirt. Pete took a deep breath, eyes closing, like he was surfacing for air. They looked at each other and shared a smile before walking out and to Patrick's car.


End file.
